


JacksepticSPY: A Jacksepticeye Spy Story (Book Two)

by Migz



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), jacksepticeye
Genre: Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, Dapper Jack - Freeform, Gen, Jameson Jackson - Freeform, Movie: Casino Royale (2006), Movie: Skyfall (2012), Schneeplestein - Freeform, Spy - Freeform, Villain Sean McLoughlin, antisepticeye, jacksepticeye - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2020-05-15 21:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19304359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Migz/pseuds/Migz
Summary: Book̷ ͞T͠w͡o̸ of the '̨SPY Series'. Sequel to MarkiSPYer.Seán McLoughlin has finally adapted to the life of espionage months after being recruited by the YouTube Agents of the Secret Service (Y. A. S. S.). He was rising through the ranks until on̕e in͟c̛i͝de͡ņt changed it all, causing his career to make a hard left and go on a downward spiral as people begin to question his capabilities of being a spy - including h͘i͏m͢s̸ȩl̨f.Sometimes threats hit c͜lo̢s̢er̡ ͏t̕o ͢home t̵h͠an one m̨igh̵t̸ ex̵p̧e͝ct͠.





	1. Top of the Evenin'

**Author's Note:**

> Now, most of you guys came over from MarkiSPYer so you prolly know what is Y.A.S.S. is and how our Irish potato got into the spy business. This book will be depicting him having an already established career in the field of espionage, with this taking place months after that January 2017 Darkiplier assignment. Will be a bit darker in tone but will retain the comedic qualities MarkiSPYer had.

"I am in control," said the green-haired man through gritted teeth as he stared into the camera with such malevolence in his ocean blue eyes, "I'm tired of playing pretend..." he continued, raising a big butcher knife in front of the camera, "They all follow me."

He let out a bone-chilling chuckle, "Who do you think you've been watching all this time?" He grinned, "My puppets."

"This is MY world!" The man tightly gripped his knife as he extended both arms outward, "And all of these creatures..."

He twitched, inching closer to the camera with his unblinking eyes, "I wonder what will happen to your favorite boy... This isn't the end... This is only the beginning. See you soon."

He stopped when there was only an inch between him and the lens, pausing for a second or two. After that, he slumped back and let out a chuckle that contrasted the sinister one he did earlier.

"Okay!" The Irishman said, , "I think that's good enough for an Antisepticeye clip." He said, brushing his bluish green hair to the side and looking at the monitor next to the camera. It displayed a live feed of him: a green-haired pale Irishman in an all black casual attire standing in front of a wall padded with black foam to soundproof the studio.

"Wow, I did a pretty good job at that wound," Seán looked at the bloody wound on his neck resembling a throat slash, smiling at the work he did.

There was a slight pause, the Irishman was subconsciously staring at the blue flamingo-printed boxer shorts on the floor trying to recall if he had any more video ideas that needed to be filmed. 

With no more ideas coming to his green-haired cranium, he laughed and picked up the shorts from the floor.

"Alrighty, that's a wrap for today," Seán said, clapping his hands together as if it was a film clapper board, signifying what would be the end of the shoot.

The YouTuber chortled, excitement brimming in him to see what would the fanbase's reaction to this particular video be once him and Robin had finished editing it.

He looked back on the past few years of being a content creator on YouTube, he was more than grateful that he managed to gain a whopping fifteen million subscribers. Never had he thought he'd achieve something this grand.

In return to the fandom, Seán would take notes from the speculations and theories and somehow incorporate them to his actual videos, as a matter of thanking them for their ever growing support.

He went into his bathroom, cupping his hands under the faucet and letting water fill it to the brim. With a flick of his wrists, his face was drenched. The sensation was both soothing and startling, the feeling of being clean after a whole day of filming but the pang of cold water hitting his face sent shivers down his spine.

Seán stepped out and walked down the hall of his Brighton home, his bare feet thumping on the tiled floor, echoing in the newly painted halls. Even after five months of moving in Seán still had to shop for furniture.

The quietness of atmosphere gave him a sense of calmness, but it also brought in that subconscious feeling of anxiety, that growing feeling of sadness realizing that he was going through a tough time this year - as much as he loved his job of being a content creator inspiring millions of people around the world, he felt his job had gone mundane.

Despite that, he already hardwired his brain to keep his head up, to be positive that these tough times would pass, hoping that much greater things were waiting for him in the end.

Positive Mental Attitude, that's what Seán would say to the community every now and then, little did the fans know that he was also reminding himself to do the same thing.

His phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, pulling him out from his semi-tranced state. He brought his phone up and read the message. It was from Robin Torkar, his editor and best friend. 

"Showtime," He said, sighing in relief, thankful that his other job would distract him from being left alone with his thoughts.

The YouTuber turned around and went to his closet at the other side of the hall, yanking the door open and digging through the piles of clothes on coat hangers.

"There you are, ya fuckin' bugger," He said, his native Irish accent prominent when he spoke that line.

Seán pulled out his navy blue suit, the same exact suit he wore during SXSW 2016, and other events that required him to wear something formal and conceal the childish Irish loudmouth everyone on the Internet knew him for. It was his favorite suit... well, because it's his only suit.

He then spun back around and walked away, one hand holding his attire the other quickly undoing his belt buckle causing his skinny jeans to slide down his thighs fast. Seán first slipped on the flamingo shorts then took the blue slacks from the set. He then draped the rest of the suit on one shoulder freeing both hands.

As he approached the top of the stairs, he stretched the opening of his pants and placed it in front of him. His right foot went in first, going out the bottom and landing a step below. His left foot followed, this time going another step down, finally being able to pull his pants up and buckle them into place.

He continued to go down, now slipping on the plain white business shirt over his black t-shirt and buttoning it shut and completing the set with a black necktie. Next was the blue coat, Seán effortlessly put it on, adjusting the creases on the sleeves before buttoning that one as well.

At the bottom of the stairs were a pair of black leather shoes, purposely placed there for his huge feet to slip into.

Once the YouTuber reached the ground floor, he turned to his left and faced a mirror as tall as him, seeing himself in the suit and ready to go wherever he was heading.

Seán dug in his chest pocket and pulled out a pair of black framed glasses and put it on, a Heads-up display projecting on the bottom left of the left lens.

"Best character introduction EVER," Seán smirked.

He went outside, locking the door behind him. It was already dark outside, around nine in the evening, people were already turning in to their homes for the day while Seán was only beginning his 'day'. He walked confidently to a silver Lamborghini Aventador parked in front of his house, eyes fixated on it, admiring the beauty of the car.

The Irishman took out a key from his pocket and immediately turned left, leaving the luxury car behind and going to the nearby bike stand that had a silver Segway PT chained to it. He unlocked the bike chain and stepped on the mat big enough to carry his feet. He slipped on a white helmet and locked it into place and watched the dashboard on the handle power on and emit a subtle green glow.

"Voice identification please," A woman's voice spoke.

"TOPODAMORNINTOYALADDIESMYNAMEISJACKSEPTICEYE!" The man screamed on top of his lungs.

The dashboard illuminated green and Seán's own Septiceye Sam logo displayed on the touchscreen.

"Welcome, Agent JacksepticSPY."


	2. JACKSEPTICSPY

Los Angeles, California, a city of glitz and glamour, a small place in the world where most of the blockbuster films the people enjoy were made, almost every corner one can spot a famous person going on their normal lives - if one considered being stalked by rabid paparazzis as normal.

Some miles away from the busy town lies a cliché isolated facility hidden among the tall trees. It was a four-story warehouse that was of futuristic design, using its highly polished glass windows to reflect the moonlight and the surrounding trees to obscure itself from meddling people's eyes...

All except the eyes of two agents.

"That's the place. Darkiplier's Facility," Seán's partner said, a Swedish man of slim build, also in a suit, his short ginger hair styled to a point up top, almost resembling a shark's fin. Robin Torkar crouched behind a bush with Seán joining him there.

"What's the agenda, PixlPit?" The agent pulled out a pair of binoculars and scouted the place, seeing men in black suits guarding the perimeter. "How come those goons are still up and around despite Darkiplier being behind bars?"

"We got intel that they're working on a device that will break Dark out of prison," Robin replied, bringing up a pair of binoculars similar to Seán's to get a closer look.

"Any specific name for the said device?" Seán asked, eyes still scouting the location.

"Project BDSM," Robin cleared his throat, looking away from his partner.

The Irishman did a double take upon hearing what he said, "You're kidding me, right?"

"Sadly, no," He pouted, "It's short for Project Break Darkiplier Sound Machine."

"Couldn't they have come up with a better sounding name?"

"Ask the one who came up with Y.A.S.S. and D.A.T.A.S.S.," Robin shrugged.

Seán ran his hand through his thick green hair, shaking his head in disbelief. "So that thing has something to do with sound?"

"Duh."

"Alright, you two. Be prepared, who knows what's waiting for you there," Felix said, his husky voice erupting from their earpiece. "PixlPit will be manning the computer to help you make your way to the third floor quietly, you get in and out of there fast."

Robin flipped open a laptop and booted up the screen. A 3D rendering of Dark's entire facility, from ground floor to the fourth floor, detailed with each and every room built inside. He then swiped his finger across the laptop's screen, turning the virtual building around.

"I'm gonna be unlocking the door at the right side, it's where the least of Dark's men are guarding," Robin turned to face Seán.

"You got it," The YouTuber put down the binoculars and put on a black beanie over his neon green hair. Can't let the guards see a floating mass of green hair in the dark.

He then checked his pistol holster under his coat, pulling out a Walther PPK custom painted green, much like his hair. He could've wished for a more stealthier color scheme, but that was what Bob and Wade made for him.

"This should've been red. I like red," The agent turned the gun in his hand before taking out the magazine to check the bullets.

"So you're telling me green is not your favorite color?" Robin asked, shock in his tone.

"Yes, my dude. Green was just associated with me because of the whole 'septic-eye' name."

"My whole life has been a lie," His partner joked, "That's a tough pill JSE fans are gonna have to swallow."

The Irishman nodded and flashed him a smirk, putting his phone inside a hidden pocket in his blue coat.

"You got your glasses ready?" Robin said.

He returned the gun back to its holster and tapped on the side of his glasses. His view changed into an X-Ray filter that saw through the concrete walls of the building, enabling him to see the men inside butt naked.

"FUCKIN' HELL," He whispered loudly, giving the glasses another tap then lifting the frame to his forehead, rubbing his eyes, "Mother of God, why did they have to make that filter?"

Robin and Felix laughed.

"It might come in handy," Robin snickered, "And besides, I'm still uploading the S.H.V.R. filter to your glasses, I'm sure you'll like it."

"Oh boy," Seán rolled his eyes, putting the glasses back on his face, now seeing clearly. "Okay, I'm going in."

It was quite a peaceful night, nothing but the cold gust of summer air and the ambient sounds of owls and rustling of leaves. Seán's navy blue suit blended perfectly in the dark, him partially crouched behind the trees. Partially because his fitted suit was restraining him to.

"Ow," Seán adjusted his pants and coat, "When will Bob and Wade give me a suit that'll better suit my movement? This suit is killing me."

"It's either that or you're gaining weight," Robin replied.

"Fuck off, Robin."

"I'm just sayin', Seán," He said in his defense, "You've been too hard on yourself lately. Pushing out two videos a day is not easy task."

"Do I have a choice?" The agent replied, "I can't sit still in one place, I mean, I think I'd go crazy if I do."

In the back of his mind, Seán thought of the same thing, he had nothing much to do aside from being a YouTuber and a part-time super spy. He shook his head and just sighed.

"They still need to fix this," He tried squatting.

There was a loud rip. Seán felt the cold air brush against his balls.

"Goddammit," He looked between his knees, he saw his flamingo boxers jutting out of a large tear in his pants.

"Approach with caution," Robin warned, his voice shaky from holding back laughter, "Don't get too ballsy."

Seán rolled his eyes. "Remind me again why Y.A.S.S. sent me instead of Mark?" Seán asked, intrigued of the decision as he advanced to the facility, now a few meters away from the said entrance.

"Hmm..." Felix replied, "There are a lot of reasons, but I can give you three: One, Mark is going out of town to shoot his movie. Two, this is your story, didn't you read the title?"

"Good point," The YouTuber shrugged, cracking his neck preparing to approach.

"And lastly, you've proven yourself worthy over the past few months with the successful missions you and Agent Pixl have carried out."

"You don't have to say that, K," Seán said, his heart filling with joy from the unexpected compliment.

"I'm not filling your ego, JacksepticSPY," The boss said, "But it's what I've noticed. Keep up the good work."

"Well, I do love the perks of having high-tech shit to play with," The agent chortled, half-smiling.

"High tech shit that you always end up breaking," Pixl interrupted.

"Are you here to help me or to antagonize me?" The Irishman joked.

"A little bit of both."

Seán chuckled.

"There's one guard passing by to your right," Robin said, "Take him out... quietly."

The agent took a few more steps forward and looked to his right, hiding behind a bush. A tall man in a black suit was indeed walking up to him.

The second the man was in front of him, Seán leapt from his hiding place and lunged at the man, wrapping an arm around his neck and kicking the back of his knees that forced him to kneel on the gravel. His free arm covered the goon's mouth and nose.

"Nighty night," The agent said, squeezing the man's neck making him lose consciousness.

He then dropped the man and proceeded, now heading to the back door.

"Open sesame," Seán whispered, waving his arms outward as if he was a Elsa casting out ice.

It was followed by a loud beep and the sound of locks clicking.

"Thanks," He pushed the steel door inward and stepped inside.

He was welcomed by a long corridor extending the entire length of the building, the opposite end being the left side exit - in other words, the main hall. Both had doors to the left and right, almost equal in number except for a stairwell at the middle on Seán's left. It was like any other facility one might watch on movies and TV shows, the place was painted in a dull grey hue, except for the doors being painted brown making them stand out of the monochromatic walls and ceiling.

"Cameras have been dealt with, the guard in the surveillance room is only viewing a recording," PixlPit advised, "You can keep going."

"Ten-four," He replied, keeping his head down low, in a half-crouched position to avoid tearing a bigger hole in his pants.

"HOLD UP! Three guards going down the stairs!" His friend blurted out in shock.

The agent quickly hid behind the pillar to his left the second the group appeared around the corner. However doing so caused the tear in his pants to get bigger, the rip echoing in the hall, a sound that made his heart leap to his throat.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," The agent looked down as he pressed his back against the cold concrete.

"There's an air vent in the room next to you - use that and exit through the third floor. Hurry," Robin said.

Seán backed up, using his hind to push the door behind him open, making a soft creak. He was engulfed in darkness, the only light being the moonlight shining through the small window opposite him.

He then tapped the side of his glasses, a night vision filter switched on, he was finally able to see the entire room, mostly in a green: It was a lounge, a long couch was in front of him, facing a massive eighty-five inch curved flatscreen LCD TV.

I'd love to play games with that big boy. Seán thought, amazed by the sheer size of the TV.

In mere seconds he spotted the entrance to the ventilation shaft, right above a mini counter most likely used as a bar in serving alcoholic beverage.

He wasted no time and climbed up the table and took off the lid. It was large enough to fit two of him side by side. Seán climbed up and sealed the vent back once he was inside.

The smell of dust and metal stung his nose, he tried his best not to sneeze. The crawlspace went forward a few feet ending up with a vertical climb. This did not bother him, he knew he wasn't claustrophobic, it was his pants he was worried about.

"It's like being a hamster," Seán whispered, slowly crawling to the end making sure every move he made wouldn't create dents in the thin aluminum walls. "A green-haired Irish hamster."

When he reached the vertical section, he rolled on his back and pulled himself to sit. This action however, resulted in his pants tearing even more.

Really now? The Irishman thought, exhaling out of his nose in frustration.

He brushed this off and stood up. Seán drew his gun and aimed up, spotting a spinning fan on top that blew a cold breeze of air on his face.

"Fan deactivated," Robin said.

Right on cue, the cold air was gone. The fan spun no more.

"Great," He whispered before pulling the trigger. A small grappling hook attached to a line shot out of the bottom of the gun's barrel, managing to wrap around the stem of the fan.

A press of a button. Seán was reeled up.

"WEEEEEEEEEEE!" He whispered as he ascended, eventually grabbing hold of the edge of the vent to pull himself up.

"Seán," Pixl said, "It appears that Damien's men have a hostage."

"Really? Who?" He raised an eyebrow.

A window popped up on the Spy's glasses, showing a video feed of a person sitting on a chair in the middle of a room, hands tied behind their back, feet tied to each foot of the chair, and a burlap sack over their head. The angle of the camera was to the left the captive, it was difficult to determine what they were wearing, but one thing's for sure, they were wearing a blue vest over white long sleeved shirt. He was guarded by two of Dark's men, one having his blonde, slicked back hair that Seán immediately recognized.

"Wait a second, that's the dipshit who kidnapped me thinking I was Mark's boyfriend!" He whispered, "Who did he kidnap now? One half of Ian and Anthony? Dan and Phil? Rhett and Link?"

The goon leader approached the poor man, his hand grasping the sack and taking it off.

Just seeing the side profile of the hostage made Seán gasp.

The captive had vibrant green hair, skin slightly more pale that Seán's, he was a near exact copy of the YouTuber, the only difference being a tiny black bushy mustache on his upper lip. He was in a 1920s-era outfit, plain white button down long-sleeved shirt, black slacks, and navy blue vest over the white shirt. To complete the outfit was a gold-rimmed monocle dangling by a gold chain from a small pocket on his vest.

Seán saw the man's face riddled with bruises, he looked like he was beaten before being tied to to the chair. The man opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. There was no audio in the room.

"Holy fuck," The spy gasped, still keeping his voice to a whisper, "That's Jameson!"


	3. Jameson Jackson

Seán continued to crawl through the air vent. It went straight ahead, every seven feet having steel grates that gave access to the rooms of the third floor. He watched the live video feed on his glasses, observing the two men staring down at Jameson, who was helplessly thrashing in his the wooden chair he was strapped in. The two lunkheads stood proud, arms crossed, and having a grin on their faces that made Seán's blood boil.

"Which room is he in?" The agent whispered, determination to save Jameson coursing through his veins. 

"He's in the last room. Straight ahead," Robin answered, "May I ask who is Jameson?" 

"He's an old childhood friend of mine," Seán recalled, picturing himself in his early elementary days, "As a matter of fact, it's the first time I'll be seeing him in years."

"The question is why is he here?"

"I guess we're gonna have to find out. We'll get him then the BDSM device - That name, God," He cringed, tightly shutting his eyes for a second and biting the inside of his cheek.

"Dark's device is in the room beside the one Jameson's in. You could easily get there through the vents right after you rescue your friend." 

"Got it." 

He approached the vent cover that overlooked the said room, spotting fancy-dressed Jameson just beneath him through the vent cover's grills. Laying flat on his belly, Seán shifted a little and saw the two henchmen with their backs turned, now walking towards the door and exiting the room. 

Seizing the opportunity, Sean pushed down the lid but grasped it in his hand, preventing it from falling to the floor some eight feet below. He then pulled it back inside and stuck his feet out in the open, carefully lowering himself inside the room. 

Suddenly, the tear in his pants got caught in the corner. 

With a soft whimper, Seán was flipped upside down. The added weight caused his pants to tear even more. He was dangling by a piece of cloth caught in the corner of the aluminum vent.

Jameson looked up and inaudibly gasped upon seeing his face just a foot away from Seán's. 

"Hey Dapper," Seán greeted, "Uh... Spider-Jack to the rescue? Heh," The YouTuber forced a half-smile, feeling his face heat up as blood rushed to his head. 

Jameson tilted his head to the side like a curious child, mouth hanging open and unable to answer as he watched Seán struggle to get himself down. 

"These pants are nothing but trouble," He sighed, looking around the room as he slowly spun around like the toys hanging over a baby's crib. 

The room was mostly empty save for a couple of crates stacked up in one corner near the door. The place was mostly painted in the same dull grey as the outside, and brightly illuminated by two fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There was a window, but it had bars roughly an inch thick.

"So, my old friend, how have you been?" The agent asked as he faced Jameson, his hand reaching up to the tear in his pants, "It's been years." 

Finally being able to get a closer look of his friend, Seán saw bruises on Jameson's cheek and forehead, the latter looking like blunt force trauma. He was most likely hit in the head and knocked out before being brought here.

"Seán, you better hurry it up," PixlPit frantically said, "Hurry it up before-"

The door swung open with a piercing squeal.

"Oh look! An Irish Piñata!" A stranger's voice said. 

The agent's heart dropped to his stomach, even though it should've dropped to his head since he was upside down.

Shit. The men have returned. And they were armed with aluminum baseball bats. 

"Agent JacksepticSPY," The blonde-haired leader said, "Last time we met you were a damsel-in-distress." 

"Haha, cute," Seán fumbled for his belt. 

The two surrounded him. But before they could do some damage, Seán slipped off the pants and landed on the other henchman, teabagging him with his now-exposed flamingo shorts.

He then sprung to his feet, kicking the baseball bat from the downed goon's hand up to his own, grabbing it in mid-air. The swift movement sent a cold gust of wind up his shorts, giving him goosebumps. 

The leader was at least six feet, slightly taller and bulkier than Seán's meager five-foot-ten height. The man pounced, swinging his bat at the YouTuber who in turn crouched down, his body barely clearing the direction of the weapon. Seán feeling the weapon brush past strands of his green hair on the top of his head.

Still in his crouched stance, Seán grabbed his bat with two hands and jabbed it up at the goon, landing a solid blow to his jaw. A loud, pained grunt came from the blonde leader, clutching his throbbing chin from the pain. 

The Irishman kicked him away, "Who you calling a damsel-in-distress, bitch?" He gloated, brushing his messy green hair to the side.

Suddenly the second goon grabbed both ends of Seán's bat, bringing it up and trapping him in a chokehold. The agent felt the cold aluminum press on his neck, restricting the airflow into his throat. He gasped for air as the man pulled him back, pulling the weapon up higher until the agent's feet barely touched the ground. 

However, during the struggle, Sean was able to kick Jameson to the side, knocking him off balance and breaking the wooden chair. 

With all his strength, Seán desperately tried to counter the bat, pushing it away from his neck. His heart raced, seeing the leader regain his senses and see him incapacitated. He released one hand and repeatedly hit the man behind him with his elbow, hitting the gut countless times. 

Just as the leader came within reach, Seán used the leader as leverage and pushed him against himself, flipping over the other goon and ending up standing behind him. With a powerful kick to the back of the knee, the agent sent the second generic goon to his knees before finishing him off with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head. 

Then Seán felt pain on his side. He had taken a hit from the baseball bat.

"FUCK! That hurt," The agent fell to the floor, the blow significantly weakening him. 

"Duh," The leader towered over him, hitting him again, the impact making a loud thunk on his back.

Seán rolled on his back, looking straight up at his assailant. 

"This is the end for you, Jack. Any last words?" He raised the bat over his head.

"Yeah," Seán flashed a smirk, "You gotta stop having your cliché one-liners. You just bought him time." 

"'Him'?" The leader saw the Irishman's brilliant blue eyes dart from him to behind him. 

The second he turned around, Jameson swung as hard as he could with a piece of the chair's backrest, hitting the man in the face, the impact breaking the backrest into pieces.

Catching his breath, he looked up at Jameson who raised an eyebrow and held a thumbs up, his gesture asking: 'Are you alright?'

Despite his friend being mute, Seán was able to understand what he meant. 

"I'm fine, Dapper," He grunted, taking Jameson's hand reaching out to pull him up. 

Jameson wiggled his tiny black mustache, pulling out his pocket watch. He pulled Seán into a hug first, pointed at him then at the watch.

"I know, man. I haven't seen you since-" 

Dapper held up all ten fingers.

"Yeah, ten years," Seán nodded, "What are you doing here?"

Jameson shrugged at little but then gasped, and he appeared to recall a bit.

'I think they're coercing me to help them with something,' He gestured.

"Well, looks like you're in pretty deep shit, Dapper," The agent dusted himself off.

Jameson answered with a nod.

"Robin, wh-?" He reached for the earpiece on his right ear but finding it missing. The agent looked around. Then he saw a small pancaked ear bud on the floor, there was an outline of a sole on it. "Oh shite." 

Suddenly on his left lens, a message popped up, much like a Facebook chat with the message in a bubble. It read:

Sean, you gotta get outta there. The men are coming your way! - Pixl

"Time to go, man," He pulled the crate from the corner and dragged it under the opening on the ceiling, feeling quite relieved that his legs were now free from those tight slacks.

After pulling Jameson into the air vent with him, he retraced his steps, stopping before another exit that led to the adjacent room. And right on cue, Robin's message popped up:

That's the BDSM room.

Seán shook his head, "I wonder if he meant by BDSM if it's the room where Dark's device is or it's the room filled with kinky shit found in Fifty Shades of Grey."

He peeked through the slits, seeing the room lit in the same dim light as the one they had previously been in. It was crowded in there. From what Seán saw, there were different types of equipment, ranging from tiny transmitters to large, full scale satellite dishes he could remember some were on Dark's Space Station. In the middle were five rows of tables, much like one would see in a school laboratory, overflowing with spare parts and new inventions. The room had a window, but it too, was reinforced with steel bars. Nothing gets in and nothing gets out.

Seán took out his phone from inside his coat and texted Robin. Within seconds he got a reply, popping up on his lens:

It's the one where a single spotlight shines down on, much like a very important object subtly highlighted in video games.

"Alright," Seán took off the lid but stopped and looked at Jameson, "You wait here, I'm just gonna get something down there."

Dapper nodded, smiling a little and wiggling his mustache.

Seán dropped down in the room, immediately crouching between the tables. Okay, it's the one highlighted among the other generic props. He told himself as he moved forward, treading the straight path in front of him. 

Upon reaching the end of the aisle, the YouTuber moved to the adjacent row. His eyes immediately caught the obvious; right at the end of the hall sitting on top of a table was a shoebox-sized device with a single desk lamp shining down on it. 

Bingo. Seán thought. 

Just as he was about to make a move, three of Dark's men emerged from the other side equipped with guns, all aimed at him. 

Seán retreated. He hid behind the side of the table as bullets flew everywhere, blowing holes in the wall and other equipment in the line of fire. 

Another window on his glasses popped up. It was a sent by Robin showing the video feed of the very room he was in. He saw himself hiding behind the counter, the camera being situated on the corner above him. 

To his surprise, he saw goons closing in on him from every direction. It was like a pack of wolves approaching their prey for the kill. 

How the fuck am I gonna get out of this shit now? He bit his lip, his heart rising to his throat and his pulse beating faster than he could ever imagine it doing. He drew out his gun and cocked it.

He was suddenly startled by a notification on his lens:

S.H.V.R. Filter Upload Complete.

It was followed by yet another message from Agent PixlPit. 

Use it. NOW.

The urgency of the message made Seán follow it without any doubt. He tapped the side of the frame of his glasses. A single sweep across his lens turned everything white; the tables, chairs and gadgets were converted into white polygons. However, the video feed of him in the room remained, giving him still some semblance of the real world.

He turned his head and looked around the corner. The three men who were firing at him were now turned into red humanoid figures, contrasting the blinding white of the environment.

"It accurately predicts their move before they can even make the move," An AI voice said, "Super Hot VR mode activated."


	4. Super Hot

The spy closely paid attention at the small window on his lens, it displaying the video feed of the surveillance camera on the ceiling all while the rest of his glasses were in the Super Hot VR filter. He pressed his back against the table and tightly gripped his gun, his mind thinking of how he'd approach.

All in all, there were roughly ten men in suits coming at him. In the aisle to his left where the device was had three men guarding it, the aisle to his right only there was only one approaching his spot.

Right after putting his phone back in his coat Seán saw the man's gun emerge from around the corner, reconstructed in his view as a black crystal shaped like a gun. He sprang up, hurling his fist into the goon's red forearm, the impact causing one of the arm to shatter into pieces, much like what would happen in Super Hot.

Using his free hand Seán grabbed hold of the henchman's gun and attempted to wrestle it from his grip. His opponent resisted, finger still in the trigger and firing shots in the air.

With his adrenaline at its peak, the agent glanced behind him, seeing two red figures emerging around the corner before the small video feed even showed the actual men doing so. In a quick twist and spin, the Irishman was able to point the gun at the man's shoe and let the goon pull the trigger, blowing a hole in the man's foot and spouting blood from it.

"For the record, that was your own fault," said Seán in the most apologetic way as the goon wailed in pain.

He then spun them around and used the same gun to greet the two other goons who were just about to show up, firing the gun hitting them squarely in the chest.

"Well, that is my fault," He shrugged, finishing the other injured goon off with a chokeslam and a pistol whip to the face.

Now armed with two guns, Seán spun around and saw two more figures in his vision emerge, seconds earlier than the live video. He ran and launched himself in the air, his foot meeting the first goon's chest and sending him crashing into a shelf on the wall. Seán smiled upon seeing the red figure shatter. Faster than before, he turned to face the second man, shoving his elbow into the man's face.

"I'M ON A ROLL NOW, MOTHERFUCKERS!" Seán wailed, running and feeling the wind blow into his thin boxers, "FACE THE WRATH OF MY FLAMINGO SHORTS!"

The YouTuber dashed towards the end of the aisle, meeting the three others guarding the device. Seán narrowed his eyes and fired three shots, all three hitting them in the chest.

Now with everyone in the room incapacitated, the agent approached the box-like gadget under the lamplight. Upon deactivating the filter, he set his eyes on it. The device reminded him of a Power Supply Unit one might buy off a store when shopping for PC parts; a single fan on top, wires jutting out from one end, and casing made out of metal. Seán sighed, inhaling a huge amount of air and slowly letting it out through his mouth as he picked up the piece, feeling some heft to it.

"You better be worth something," He said, as if the device is a living person.

His hand dug in his coat again to bring out his phone, now dialing for Robin.

"Rob," Seán spoke when he heard the other end pick up, "I've got Jameson and BDSM."

"Good job," Pixl replied, "Now get outta there before the - oh no."

"What?"

"Get Jameson out of the vent! They're about to gas it!"

Seán's eyes widened. His head shot back up at his friend who was looking back at him from the vent.

"Jameson! Get outta there!" He said, "They're gassing the vent!"

Without any hesitation, the fancy-dressed man leaped out, falling hard on the floor just as thick green smoke began to spread through the opening. An obvious sign of toxic smoke based on movies and books.

"You okay, man?" He helped Jameson stand back up to which the latter replied with just a thumbs up.

Looking up at the clouded vent, the agent knew that there was no way they could get out through there. Maybe it's just fart? He thought, trying to lighten up the moment. His grip on the gun tightened, taking momentary glances at the vent then at the door leading out to the main hall.

Then there was a loud bang on the door, startling the two of them. Jameson and Seán, without any verbal cues, ran to the adjacent cabinet and pushed it to block the entrance, and consequently, their exit.

"Maybe we could use something in here," The Irishman searched the wide variety of equipment, which should be a haven for him given his resourcefulness. "Jameson, help me find-"

Jameson placed on the table, with deliberate force enough to catch Seán's attention, a mishmash of things obtained in the room. But the agent immediately knew what it was for upon seeing a ticking alarm clock being in the middle with wires sticking out around it. 

He looked at Jameson, somehow creeped out that they look eerily the same save for the small mustache. The mute man's ocean blue eyes darted from him then at the door just as a screw popped out from the door hinge.

"Great thinking, we can flank them," The agent said, placing the small bomb by the door and starting the five-second timer. Hurriedly running around the table, both of them took cover and plugged their ears with their fingers.

There was a deafening BANG! The floor underneath their feet shook as flying chunks of rock flew everywhere, eventually covering the room with a layer of smoke and a stench of burnt electric wiring. Along with the explosion were screams, coming from the goons who were most likely and literally, blown away.

"I hope this isn't too brutal. Let's go," Seán said, taking the lead, guns in hand, and switching on the SHVR filter on his glasses. He could now see through the cloud of dust, seeing a giant gaping hole in the wall that gave them access to the hall. He turned to Jameson, "-stay behind me, we're meeting them head on."

The two of them ran out. Seán quickly turned to the left and saw four red figures resembling men standing a few feet away from them. He quickly aimed and fired, hitting them in the chest.

Then a small popup showed again sent by Robin, warning him of the ground floor being swarmed by dozens of Darkiplier's goons.

"We're gonna have to go through the roof, then," the agent turned towards the ladder, "Follow me."

Climbing up to the landing, Seán spun around and looked up at the third floor seeing that it was devoid of men - at least what he could see through the filter of his glasses. He then shushed Jameson, who replied with an offended glare and a shrug.

"Oh, I forgot, heh. Sorry." He bit his lip in embarrassment.

As soon as they reached the floor, he pressed his back against the wall, feeling his heart pounding loudly in his chest while he checked the hallway in front of him aiming his pistols. With the coast clear, he inched closer to the corner, carefully sticking half of his face out to check. Suddenly, a pair of strong hands grabbed his shoulder, yanking him out of hiding and tossing him to the glass cabinet housing a fire hose and a fire extinguisher, the pane shattering into pieces.

It knocked the wind out of him. Seán let out a groan when he fell to the floor, his back aching from the impact. My back! Again. But before he could even look up at his attacker, he was picked up and pinned to the wall next to the cabinet. The agent raised his gun but it was swatted away. The man was a bit taller than him, but much more bulkier and has that forgettable generic goon face as Seán might describe it.

Jameson threw a punch at the goon, the blow hitting the back of the head. This got the man's attention, as he looked over his shoulder. In that momentary distraction, Seán removed the spray nozzle of the fire hose from the rack and swung it at the henchman's head, effectively releasing him from his grasp. The mute ran for the valve and turned it. The Irishman pointed the hose at the airhead, the powerful blast of water sending him tumbling down the stairs and into the other henchmen, rendering the steps wet and slippery.

_________

Out of breath and with the henchmen in hot pursuit firing guns at them, the pair finally reached the topmost floor. With a quick push of the push-bar handle, Seán was able to shove the door open and immediately, the cold air blew against his face and his bare legs, making him shiver. It's so cold my balls might've shrunken completely, he thought, remembering that the only protection he had on his lower half were his flamingo-printed blue shorts.

The moonlight shone through the cloudless sky, giving the rooftop that blue tinge. There vents sticking out of the ground like serpent-like body of the Loch Ness Monster, with its 'head' being the giant AC units with giant fans on top to take in the outside air. Frantically spinning around in his spot, Seán slammed the door behind them. Jameson then rushed over and tried jamming a steel chair against the bar.

"Jameson," Seán tugged his friend away from the Fire Exit, neglecting the plan of barricading the door, "That won't work, buddy. It's a fire exit."

To his surprise, the chair somehow did the trick, buying them some time to make finally get the fuck out of there.

"Unbelievable," the agent rolled his eyes, rushing towards the edge of the building where he saw the thick steel wire connected to the ground below mounted on an angle, resembling what one would see on a zip-line, "Over there!"

Holstering his gun, he did a quick scan of the area, eventually spotting a length of chain with large hooks on either side on the floor. He picked it up and hooked one hook to the wire and putting one foot on the other end - with the intent of zip-lining down to the ground.

That was the plan - until Seán saw how high they were.

The agent froze. His heart rate began to race followed by a shortness of breath, the same time when he felt his his legs turn into jelly, trembling like crazy. But then Jameson's warm hands grasped his cold arms, turning Seán around to face him, 'What's wrong?' The mute man signed.

"I-I..." Seán stammered, "I..."

Jameson shrugged then, raised his hand up measuring Seán's height, his eyes narrow with intrigue and concern.

"Yeah, I'm still afraid of them," The agent nodded slowly, sweat dripping down the side of his face. "Y-you go first... I-I'll catch up later."

The mute man tugged on the Irishman's arm.

"I-I'll find another way," The green-haired man stuttered, turning around to head back to the door. Only for it to give way and enable a multitude of men to step outside.

The agent felt a tug on his Flamingo shorts. The hook was pulling on the elastic of his shorts, exposing his naked butt.

"THESE ARE MY FAVORITE SHORTS!" Seán yelled as Jameson pulled him towards the edge, "THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT BY HOOKING UP!"

Despite Seán's resistance, the mute was able to link him to the steel wire. Jameson then wrapped an arm around Seán then holding on the chain, securing the Irishman between him and the chain.

"Jameson, wait, no - NOOOOOOO!" Seán screamed at the top of his lungs the second he saw his feet fly high above ground, "WE'RE GONNA DIE!"

As they descended, Seán's vision went blurry, and his arms and legs turned into jelly - no - pudding, dangling lifelessly. Okay. I'm passing out now. He slowly closed his eyes as they rolled up into his head and-


	5. The Surrogate

Fire. He was surrounded by fire. Everywhere he looked he was blinded by the bright orange flames. Seán shielded his face with his arms, looking down at his foot as he saw the little dry space from his shoe and the base of the fire.

He tried to open his mouth, but nothing but a whimper came out.

Then a wooden beam fell down from above and swung at him. He reacted fast and turned around, the beam hitting him in the shoulder and throwing him off balance.

~

Awakened by the sound of a door slamming, Seán bolted upright with a gasp, his senses taking in the environment as his fuzzy vision cleared. He was on a springy mattress on a wooden bed frame, a thick bed sheet draped over the lower half of his body. He immediately cocked his head to the left where he heard the sound, seeing Robin standing there frozen, eyes wide in shock, guilt-ridden for disturbing his sleep.

"Robin!" The agent blurted out, rubbing his temples and feeling his shirt drenched in sweat, "What happened?"

"You passed out," his friend said, "while you were going down Darkiplier's building."

Groaning, he buried his face in his palms, "I fuckin' hate my chronic fear of heights, they always get the best of me - like every worry and doubt I have in myself."

"Nah, it's normal, bro," Robin sat at the foot of his bed, pulling out a chocolate bar from his grey suit pocket, "Here, take this, it'll give you strength."

He flashed his friend a smirk and took the bar, tearing through the wrapping and sinking his teeth in, instantly tasting the sweetness of the chocolate. "Thanks, man."

"No problem."

As he chewed, his thoughts went back to his dream.

"Hey," Robin waved an arm in front of his face, distracting Seán from his trance, "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah," He said, taking another bite, "Was it a success?"

"What?" Pixl asked.

The Irishman swallowed a chunk, "-the mission?"

"Oh yeah, it's definitely a success," He smiled, "Felix sent me here to come get you for a debriefing. I was supposed to wait for you to wake up - but, eh - you're awake now."

Then he suddenly remembered his mute friend, "And Jameson? Where is he?" Seán bit another chunk.

"He's staying in a room just a few ways from here," Robin said firmly.

"That's good."

"Now come on," His friend gave Seán a pat on the shoulder, "The boss wants to see us."

"But I thought I was the boss?" He said, chuckling.

_______

"The mission's a success, agents," Felix laid back, playing with the reclining chair, pushing it as far as he could before letting it spring back.

Robin and Seán looked at each other, both having the weirded out expression, "Something tells us you like that chair a lot, K." Seán said.

"Bob and Wade made this for me, and I can't stop playing with it," K said, springing back up and looking at the two, "Sure you men have comfy chairs... BUT CAN YOU DO THIS?"

He slowly bent back until he disappeared behind the office table, bending the backrest a full 180 degrees before tipping to one side and falling to the carpeted floor with a loud thud  
He slowly bent back until he disappeared behind the office table, bending the backrest a full 180 degrees before tipping to one side and falling to the carpeted floor with a loud thud. Within seconds Felix stood up, standing rigid and awkward as he adjusted his coat and fixed his tie, trying his best to look professional in front of his agents who were holding back laughter.

"Moving on," Felix reset the chair back to its original form and sitting down on it, "Congrats on the job, boys." He said, putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"The pleasure's ours, K," Robin said.

"Dark's device now out of his henchmen's hands," The boss said reassuringly as he stroked his beard, "But something is still not just fitting in... Why do they have a man like Jameson held hostage?"

In a sudden turn of events the once-cheerful atmosphere of the room turned into something more serious and gloomy. The two agents stood up from their seats, Robin taking a step closer to Felix as Seán walked towards the window, eyes on his friend as he handed a white folder to Felix, contained inside were a stack of papers.

"I've done some background research," Robin shrugged.

K took the folder and read the words J.W. JACKSON in big red letters stamped on the cover. He flipped it open and started reading.

"Jameson William Jackson," Pixl began, "Graduated from University of Limerick, Ireland with a degree of Electronics and Communications Engineering. Outstanding grades despite his disability. He found a job in the U.S. as a technician in A Mod Shop, customizing the electronics in cars and the like."

"He may be silent, but he's smart as hell," Seán added, arms folded and leaning on the window frame, his gaze now on the cars driving on the road below, "He was bullied in school when we were kids. His only friends were me and Henrik von Schneeplestein."

Felix kept silent, enthralled in the so-called character exposition, his eyes now on Seán.

"We were very close friends until I left college to pursue YouTube - or whatever this is that's happening to us now," The Irishman continued, "Funny, how our paths crossed once again after all these years."

"Yeah," Felix said, scratching his thick beard, "He might be the inciting incident."

"That might as well be true," Seán agreed, realizing Felix's point crystal clear.

"Which is what brings me to this," K stood up, "Right now I'm putting him under witness protection of Y.A.S.S., and you Agent JacksepticSPY, will be watching over him for the meantime."

"Me?" Seán asked, a bit surprised.

"You're the one who knows him, at least more than us," The boss said, "Maybe you could gather some more information if knows something about the BDSM - that sounded wrong on so many levels."

"I know, right?!" Robin asked.

"So I'm gonna be a surrogate big brother now?" Seán brushed his green hair back, feeling a bit pressured, now with the added extra load of watching over Jameson.

"If you put it one way, yes," Felix said, "I believe it's for the best. Darkiplier's men kidnapped Jameson for a reason, a reason we're gonna have to find out."

"Okay," The agent said with a confident nod.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Knock knock," A voice of a man said from the other side of the door, recognizable with the trademark baritone voice that make ladies of all ages around the world swoon.

"Come in," Felix said.

The door swung open, a man of lean build stepped inside, wearing plain black shirt and khaki shorts, outfit completed by a pair of loafers. He had a wide smile when he locked eyes with Seán, his grin was like that of a proud older brother seeing his younger sibling grow.

"Jack!" Mark Fischbach greeted, pulling his friend into a hug, patting his back.

"Mark!" Seán said back, with the same enthusiastic tone. It was great seeing an fellow agent other than Robin, especially the agent that got him into the spy business, "What're you doing here?"

Mark pulled back and then hugged Robbin as well, "Oh, you know, gonna show up to our boss Felix here before heading off to Pasadena to shoot a movie."

"Cool," The agent said, "What kind of movie?"

"Oh, the fans will love it," Mark said with much excitement, "It's like a four-part Murder Mystery movie with a Supernatural twist, and a hint of quote unquote, 'Origin Story' of Darkiplier and Wilford Warfsrache."

"Sounds promising," Seán nodded.

Mark had a half smile as he turned to Felix, "I'll be taking two weeks off, K."

"Noted," K said, "Have you turned in your old weapons to Bob and Wade for new ones?"

"Yes, boss," Mark said as he stepped back to the door, "I'll be getting the new ones when I get back from filming."

"Alright. See you two weeks then," He waved him goodbye.

"Good luck with your mission, Seán," Mark gave Seán a salute, to which Seán replied with a nod, before stepping out and leaving the three to their conversation.

"As of right now, there are no missions in line for you two," Felix began, flipping open a different folder, "You guys can return to being actual YouTubers for the meantime."

"Thank you," The pair said in unison.

"Off you go," K said, sounding formal, a stark contrast to his loudmouthed persona on YouTube, "You gotta get ready for PAX West 2017."

Seán gasped, "When is PAX?" He said, mentally kicking himself for not remembering the upcoming event.

"September 1 through 4," Robin answered.

"I gotta get my videos done!" The agent spun in his spot and went for the door, Robin following him suit.

"Oh wait, boys!" Felix called out, stopping the two agents who were mere inches from the door, "Before you go, you two have to turn your weapons first in to the Weapons Tech Department as well for some upgrades. Bob and Wade are expecting you."


	6. New Digs

Navigating his way through the hallways of the compound, Seán and Robin were able to reach Jameson's room, stopping just in front of the door. Reflecting on the new assignment he was given, he figured that it might not be that challenging. It's just babysitting, right? He said to himself, Babysitting an almost thirty-year-old man for a few days, plus it's the perfect chance to catch up with an old friend. What could possibly go w̧ro͘ng?

"This is the place," Robin said.

He knocked on the door, "Jameson? It's me, Seán," He announced. In an instant, the door swung fully open, and grinning at the agent was a near-splitting image of himself...

...but it was not Jameson.

The man was in a lab coat covering most of his baby blue scrubs underneath. A clump of the man's green hair were sticking out of his surgical cap - something a well trained surgeon should not be doing.

"Ah, Mr. Eye and Mr. Pit," the man in scrubs began, his accent sounding like a cross between German and Irish, basically a butchered accent. 

"Doctor Henrik Von Schneeplestein," Seán greeted, "What are you doing in there?" 

Schneep's eyebrows raised, "Ah, you're just in time to vitness a surgery I volunteered to do!" 

The two agents looked past the doctor's shoulder and saw Jameson innocently sitting on the edge of his bed, the mute man's eyes lighting up upon seeing the two, then waving at them like a child.

The Irishman switched his gaze back to the doctor, "How is Dapper?" 

"Ze patient has suffered blunt force trauma to ze left side of his head," the Doctor said, bringing up a wooden mallet, "Vhich is vhy I brought zis mallet to hit ze ozer side of ze head, to balance it."

Robin pushed away the wooden mallet, "Er, I don't think that will help him recover from the pain."

Schneep narrowed his eyes, "Vot do you mean? Of course it'll help him! I know zat because I'm a vell-trained surgeon! I'm ze good doctah!"

Seán shook his head in disbelief, walking past the doctor and approaching Jameson, both sharing a gaze of reassurance and acknowledgment. 

"Hey, man. How you holding up?" The agent asked.

The mute gave a thumbs up, then pointed up at his bandage. 

"Great," He said, "I had to swing by to tell you that you're gonna be staying with us for a while until the coast is clear, who knows what might happen if we let you go now." 

Jameson nodded. 

"Don't worry, you won't be staying here," Seán reassured, crossing his arms, "You're coming home with me. For the meantime, I'll be your-"

"Nanny," Robin interjected, earning a snicker from Schneeplestein. 

"...companion," Seán finished, glaring at Robin, "Is that okay with you?" He said, turning to Jameson.

The man gave a two thumbs up. 

"Okay," He clasped his hands together, "Let's go." 

_________

"Right this way, agents... and guest," Bob said, leading them inside the laboratory. It was a place Seán would dub as a grown man's playground - since almost every weapon he ever dreamed of possessing when he was a child could be found there, there were laser guns that go pew! pew!, suction cups meant for climbing up walls, and many other things made specifically for certain missions. 

In the room with Bob and Wade was Tyler Scheid, Mark's curly-haired partner in almost everything - including missions. He had his back to them as he bounced his head to the beat, ears covered with puffy headphones. 

Seán observed the tall man as he danced to whatever music he was listening to, Tyler swaying his hips like they don't lie. 

"What is he doing?" Robin asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Seán replied, "He's dancing."

"Not for long," Wade said, rushing over to Tyler carrying a stew pot and a handful of firecrackers, placing him just a few inches from the oblivious agent's feet, "This oughta shake him up." He took a lighter from his pocket and ignited the wick, quickly stepping back to join the others.

Even with their ears covered, the loud bang of the firecracker, rang through them. Tyler squealed, jumping up as if he was in a tap dancing contest, startled by the loud noise.

"Wade! What the fuck?!" Tyler bellowed, taking off the headphones.

"Just wanna keep you in touch with the real world," Wade shrugged, turning around and going back to his desk.

"What are you listening to, anyway?" Seán asked.

"Oh," Tyler glanced at the headphones in his hand then putting it on the Irishman's head for him to hear, "It's an instrumental, but it sounds cool as heck." 

Seán, having performed as a drummer in a band called Raised to the Ground more than a decade ago, has an ear for music. The second he heard the background drums of the instrumental, began tapping his thigh with the beat, feeling the hairs on his back stand on end as the buildup of the guitar riffs started. 

"I like it," He said, unaware that he sounded louder than usual to the others - if it was even possible he could even get louder than his normal speaking voice, "What's it called?" 

"It's called 'Teen City'," Tyler said, "by a band called 'Sepia'." 

"That's awesome. A new song?" 

"Yep." 

"Cool, might add it to my playlist."

Seán heard Wade clear his throat, intentionally to get his attention, "Excuse me, gentlemen, but we have to get this show on the road. Excuse us, Tyler." 

Tyler replied with a smirk.

"See you around, Ty," Seán said, before turning around and following Wade, Robin and Jameson in tow.

Bob returned with a small case in his hand, "You first, Jack. Feast your eyes on your new Septic Pistol."

Bob flipped open the lid and the pistol resembled his old Walther PPK, but it was now painted in a maroon color, something that Seán found very pleasing to the eye in contrast to his green one.

"Oh, I like this one," the agent took the gun from the case, examining it, "but what's new in this?"

"This gun has twenty percent faster firing rate compared to your current pistol," Bob explained. 

"What else?" The agent raised an eyebrow, underwhelmed at the statement.

"I'm pretty sure that's about it," the engineer reassured.

"I... uh," He muttered just as someone tapped his shoulder, making him turn around to see Wade standing by a large sheet covering the handle resembling a Segway.

"May I present, the Segway P-3000," Wade said as he gave the cloth a tug, unveiling the said vehicle. 

The light of the room immediately reflected off the chrome Segway, but aside from that it was all the same.

"This new model will be replacing your old one," Wade said, getting on the stepping platform of the Segway, "It has an updated GPS tracking device so you'll know where you've parked it, a more responsive and smart AI, miles better than your existing one."

"I like Steve better," Seán said, "Steve's never let me down." 

"You named your Segway Steve?" Robin asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah," The Irishman nodded, "Nice reference, eh?" 

"Clever."

"Anyway," the spy turned to face the engineers, "So, you're saying you wanna replace my old gadgets with new ones with barely any improvement?" 

"Yes," Bob replied.

"Sounds kinda like Apple to me," the Irishman said, glancing at Robin.

"Yearly refreshing their iPhones with little upgrades," Robin added, earning a smile from Jameson.

"But still people buy them," Wade said in his defense, "Just look at you, Jack." 

Seán felt for his phone, an iPhone 7, in his pocket, "Touché."

"But this is what makes it different to iPhone - the battery life is longer," Bob added, flipping a panel on the underside of the dashboard, "Powered by the everlasting MacGuffin Ruby. As a matter of fact, most of your new 'playthings' are powered by the ruby."

Those words triggered something within Seán. Those events flashed in his head. His chest tightened as if something was constricting the air out of his lungs. He could feel his heart pound loudly in his chest as images flashed in his head, vivid images of water and fire. 

But it was not the fire from the burning spaceship he rode before, but the fire from his dream just moments ago.

He clutched his chest.

"Seán?" Robin held his shoulder to support, "Are you alright? You look pale." 

Jameson also saw this and held Seán's other side.

The agent took a deep breath and balled his hand into a fist, bumping it a few times over his chest, "I'm always pale, man," He lied, forcing a chuckle, "and I just got a burp caught up in my windpipe."

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah," He sniffed, looking at both Jameson and Robin, "Don't worry about me, man."

"You used the ruby on this?" Seán asked flabbergasted, "Didn't Mark say that that thing is nothing but trouble?"

"He did say that," Bob explained, "But the ruby is in good hands now, I can assure you." 

"I've got a bad feeling about this," the Irishman crossed his arms, glancing at Robin.

"Don't we all?" His friend replied.


	7. Fists of Fury

A series of punches echoed in the room, with each punch being louder than the previous. It was dimply lit by the fluorescent light on the ceiling, buzzing softly as it illuminated the gym. Seán faced the flesh-colored sparring dummy in the shape of an adult male with no arms and legs, with the words 'BILLY' written in black ink across its forehead.

He was alone, a thought that both relaxed him and dreaded him. He wanted to be alone so he could I think to himself, but hated that the extended time of being alone would always lead him into overthinking.

With that, he preoccupied himself by punching an inanimate object made of silicone. He had lost track of time of how long he had been doing it, he just wanted to get the thoughts clouding his mind.

What the hell was that dream about? He asked himself, the image of him being surrounded by fire never left his mind. He knew he was afraid of heights, which explained the falling part, but not the blazing fire part, that left him baffled.

After pausing for a while to catch his breath, Seán brushed his drenched green hair to the side before clenching his hands tightly. He poised himself to attack. In a split second he threw a punch, hitting the dummy in the cheek and sending it bouncing away then springing to its original position.

"Screw-" He jabbed the dummy's chest, "...you-" it was followed by an uppercut, "...BILLY!" He finished with a roundhouse kick, hitting it with enough strength that the dummy toppled over completely.

He stared down at the 'fallen' enemy, standing as if he was some hero emerging victoriously from a grueling battle, inhaling deeply to catch his breath once more.

"Yo, Jackieboy Chan!" Someone called, coming from behind him.

Seán stopped and looked over his shoulder, seeing Robin coming to him, "Yeah, man?"

"I've been looking all over for you," Robin walked towards him, scanning the area in the process, "Where's Jameson?"

"I left him with Schneep for a while," the Irishman turned around picked up the dummy, putting it back upright.

"What are you doing here all alone?"

"Duh, I'm training," He shrugged, picking back up the dummy and putting it upright before starting to hit it again, "It's not against the law to train alone, right?"

"No, but," Robin said, stopping at the last minute.

"But what?" Seán wiped the sweat from his forehead, stopping to face his friend once again, seeing a hint of concern in Robin's eyes.

"You seem not like yourself today," He cleared his throat, "Is something wrong?"

"We all have those days, Rob, I just," Seán rubbed his temples, then sighed, "...need to practice."

"For what?"

"Just in case the mission needs some hand to hand combat."

"Well, it's kinda unfair for that thing," Robin looked past the Irishman over the shoulder."

Seán glanced behind him and realized he was referring to the dummy, evidently lacking hands let alone arms, "Huh, true."

"You really wanna practice hand to hand combat?" Pixl raised an eyebrow, rolling up his sleeves and balling his hands into fists, "Then alright, put 'em up."

"Okay then," Seán smirked as he stepped back one foot, eyes focused on his friend's fists waiting for which attack to counter.

Robin began with a left uppercut, to which Seán countered with his right hand, slapping the hand away. It was then followed by a right hook, the Irishman leaning back to avoid taking it in the face.

But that defensive move earned him a kick in the gut. It caused him to lose his balance and fall flat on his back on the floor.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Seán pushed his entire body with his arms and sprung up like a trained fighter he was. Adrenaline began to course through his system as he dodged Robin's jab, leaning to his left as the arm stretched out.

Retaliating, he grabbed the arm and hurled his knee into Robin's gut, repeating the action twice making his partner whimper. Then he spun around and flipped Pixl over, throwing him to the ground. He finished by dragging Robbin on his belly with the threat of breaking his arm.

"Smooth move," Robin said, his speech slightly muffled due to him facing the mat  
"Smooth move," Robin said, his speech slightly muffled due to him facing the mat.

Suddenly he felt Robin's leg snake around his ankle and before he knew it, he was on the ground as well, groaning and feeling pain throbbing in his back.

"Here's a challenge," Agent Pixl said, standing back up and dug his hand in his pocket.

As Seán pushed himself back up he watched his friend take out a small knife, "Whoa, whoa! Isn't this getting a little violent? And where the fuck did you get that thing?!"

"Relax," Robin scoffed, pushing the knife against is palm and making the blade retract inside the handle, "It's a fake knife. I got it off a 99 cent store."

"What gave you the idea of bringing a knife?"

"As we all know, bad guys or villains never play fair in a fist fight," Robin explained, "They always carry something in their socks or to an extent, between their butt cheeks, most likely a small switchblade."

Pausing for a moment to let that thought sink in, Seán nodded with Robin's statement, agreeing that yes, it was always never fair in a hand to hand combat, especially with a having a foe in the likes of Darkiplier.

"Alright, come at me," Seán challenged.

Robin charged, swinging the fake knife at Seán. The Irishman jumped back and caught the hand wielding the weapon. He was about to wrestle it when Robin released it from his grip, catching the blade with his other hand. Without hesitation he jammed it into Seán's back.

"OW!" Even if it was plastic it still stung.

"You gotta be prepared for that, man," Robin said, stabbing Seán's belly.

"NO! THAT TICKLES!" Seán roared with laughter, eventually blocking another attempt. He shoved his partner and threw him on top of the table, breaking it into two and sending a bunch of weapons made of foam piling on top of Robin.

The agent then picked up a foam sword, "En garde, bitch." He said, watching the tip wiggle and sag a bit.

"You need to see a doctor with that," Robin pointed at the sagging sword.

Seán chuckled, "Don't judge the sword, man, it has erectile dysfunction!"

Robin laughed as well, picking up a sword of his own, "En garde."

Chairs were thrown, fake weapons were broken, and tables were broken. Their training got more intense despite the snarky comments both parties made. They finally ended up back with the retractable knife, Seán on the ground resisting Robin as the latter tried to push the knife to his chest.

He struggled, imagining the weapon to be real since it would be in a real fight.

"Hello, is someone in the-" A third person entered the room.

Seán and Robin paused mid-fight and turned their heads to look at the person. He was of slim build, pale complexion, his overall appearance looking like a teen in his late stages of puberty because of the acne on his face, hazel eyes behind thick rimmed glasses, and a distinguishable sky blue hair.

"Ethan!" Seán greeted, throwing Robin off of him with his foot.

"I've been looking all over for you two," Ethan greeted.

"Why?" He dusted himself off and helped Robin up.

"Felix said he wanted to throw a little party at the lounge tonight," Ethan began, "He said he wanted to celebrate the recent successes of the Secret Service."

"Oh yeah, that's what I was supposed to tell you!" Robin exclaimed, "I was gonna tell you the same thing before we-" He stopped and looked around, seeing the shattered tables and scattered foam weapons.

Seán bit his lip, "I guess we got a little carried away, Rob."


	8. Burnout

Seán leaned on the mini bar as he stared at the half empty beer bottle labeled 'HEINEKEN', hand swishing the container around like a scientist experimenting with an unknown chemical inside a test tube. Loud music blared from the lounge's speakers as at least a dozen of other Y.A.S.S. agents moved around, sharing conversations with fellow agents. 

"Excuse me, gents," Felix's voice came from the speakers behind Seán.

Everyone in the room stopped talking and all eyes were at Felix, who was holding a microphone while standing on a stool to make himself visible in the crowd. Seán looked over his shoulder to look at K, taking a sip of his beer.

He held up a beer bottle, "I'd like to propose a toast to all of us for a series of successful missions, the last one being the retrieval of Darkiplier's device carried out by my friend, Agent JacksepticSPY." 

Felix was directly looking at him.

"No problem, K," The Irishman raised his own bottle.

"To Y.A.S.S.." Felix said.

"TO Y.A.S.S.!" They all replied, all with resounding joy.

Sean then took a swig, drinking the entire thing in one gulp then slamming it on the table joining the five more empty bottles of beer he had consumed prior. 

I never thought alcohol would taste so good combined with personal problems, he thought to himself, knowing that he wasn't really a fan of the beverage.

The music returned, this time a familiar music, the one that he had heard from Tyler earlier: Teen City by Sepia, it had that rock theme to it which had the Irishman bobbing his head up and down to the beat of the drums. 

Facing the counter again, Seán said, "More please," tapping on the table alerting the bartender.

"What took you so long to drink that sixth bottle?" The bartender asked as he reached for the nearby fridge to get the Irishman another bottle.

"What do you mean?" Seán raised an eyebrow, "I've only had it for a few minutes."

"It felt like you were holding it for months," He replied.

"That long, huh? Nah, it's just the author who took so long to update. That lazy bitch." 

"Good point." 

"Anyway, give me two more of these," Seán said, pointing to his bottle.

"Suit yourself," The bartender complied, opening two more beer bottles for the Irishman.

"Thank you. I need some air," Seán was able to carry the three bottles to the nearby balcony, intending to finish them there. 

As soon as he stepped outside, the cold night air brushed against his face, making the hairs on his back stand on end. He looked left then right, checking his surroundings. Once he realized that he was the only one there, he went closer to the steel railing, looking over the front yard of the office two stories below. 

Placing the two bottles on the floor, he took a deep breath and leaned on the railing, gazing at the bright dancing lights of the Ferris Wheel on Santa Monica Pier. He took another swig, slowly noticing the effects of alcohol as he felt lightheaded. But he continued to drink anyway, finally emptying the one he had in his hand.

"Hey Seán!" He recognized the voice, it was Robin's.

He turned around and faced his friend, "Yeah?" 

"What are you doing here? The party's in there." 

He brushed it off, "Ah, I-I just need some time to myself, that's all."

"Is something bothering you?" He asked, tilting his head a bit like a curious child, "You've been acting weird recently, man."

The agent chortled, avoiding Robin's eyes.

"Hey?" Seán was startled by the snap of Robin's fingers.

The agent took a deep breath and faced his friend.

"I... I have a confession to make, Rob," Seán's words piled on top of the other as he swigged his bottle of Guinness, all while trying to balance himself on his feet, "R-remember the time you asked me if I was alright or sum'thin?" 

"Uh huh?" Robin said, assisting him.

"I dunno what to do, man," Seán sighed, his voice trembling both from the emotions bubbling inside him and the intoxication. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I..." He hiccuped, "I-I feel lost. I mean I-I have a career as a content creator b-but..." a single tear seeped through his left eye, "I feel burnt out, you know?" 

Robin stayed speechless, but he was listening.

"I'm a fuckin' mixed bag of emotions right now," he wiped the tear and sighed aloud, "I don't know where to go with the channel, I recently broke up with my girlfriend... I think I-I'm falling apart."

"Aw, come on," Robin patted Seán's back, "Everything will turn out for the better, you just gotta keep your head up."

"Then this fucking dream made it worse." 

The Irishman had no idea what words were coming out of his mouth, but he felt like he had no control spilling whatever's in him out to his friend. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the emotions getting the best of him... he did not clearly know.

"A dream?" 

"Yeah," Seán turned around and leaned on the balcony, "Can you believe it? All this fuckin' shite and I'm mostly worried about is some fuckin' dream," His voice cracking in the end.

"C'mon, dreams are the interpretations of our struggles in real life," Robin said, patting Seán's back, "So tell me, what did you dream about? People tell me I'm good at interpreting dreams."

"Because you tend to sleep most of the time?" Seán managed to burp out.

"Hey," His friend said, recoiling, "I'll have you know I have a healthy sleeping pattern."

"Sixteen hour sleep, eight hour nap?" Seán smirked.

"Ha ha, funny," Robin rolled his eyes.

"I was surrounded by fire, I tried screaming for help but nothing came out of my throat," He paused for a bit to catch his breath, "Then the next thing I was that this beam swung in front of my face." 

"Okay..." 

"You're probably gonna call me crazy for bitching about some dream," Seán mumbled.

"I don't," The Swede scratched his chin, "Perhaps, the fire symbolizes something, as you've said, you're 'burnt out', hence the fire. And being surrounded by it most likely meant that you're trapped and unable to call for help because you're keeping this inner struggle to yourself." 

Seán looked at his feet, then chugged the beer, finishing it off then picking up another from his stash.

"Even you have your downs," Robin said, "It's not always ups." 

He winced at the bitterness of the alcohol as he nodded, "Yeah."

He was about to drink again when Robin grabbed his hand, preventing him from taking another swig, "I think you've had enough drinks for tonight, Jackieboy." 

"Don't worry, Robin, I'm Irish, I have high alcohol tolerance," Seán said reassuringly, going back inside and yelling, "Gimme some of that Jack Daniels!"

__________

"You sure you can get home on your own?" Felix asked, "You look pretty shitfaced, Seán."

Seán hobbled out the front door, his steps pretty much mirroring that of a zombie with his feet both pointing inward. 

"D-Don't you w-worry about me, F-Felix," Seán brushed his green hair back, struggling to keep both his eyes from closing, "I-I'm I-Ireland, I'll be overhung b-before you know it!" 

"I'll take him home," Ethan interrupted, "My place is along his anyway, and I didn't drink."

"That's a better option," Felix nodded, "Can't have a noisy drunken Irish bastard screaming Speed Is Key! all night."

"I HEARD THAT!" Seán protested, "I can still understand a word you're saying! I'm n-not as think as you drunk I-I am."

Ethan walked down the front porch towards the agent, "C'mon, Seán," he went under his arm to support him which rubbed Seán the wrong way.

"Take your fuckin' hands off of me, Billy!" Seán pulled away from Ethan, "Imma fuckin' shit the beat outta you so bad you'll w-wake up in a hospital."

"Uh oh, he's hallucinating Happy Wheels again," Robin joined Ethan, "Let's get him home."

"How? He won't even let us touch him," Ethan flinched away from Seán.

"I know just the trick," the Swede said, "Start your car and open the backseat door. Oh, and I need an ice pack, Felix." 

Ethan did what he was told, unlocking his car and opening the backseat door wide open. Felix went back inside then re-emerged with a bag filled with half melted ice.

"Hey Seán!" 

The Irishman heard Robin's voice echoing as he twisted his half-limp body to face him, "The f-fook do you want this time?" 

"Look! Balls!"

Seán followed Robin's outstretched arm pointing to what he could make out was a silver car.

"Balls?" Seán raised an eyebrow, barely able to keep an eye open, "I LOVE BALLS!"

Without any hesitation, Seán charged at the car and flung himself in the air, landing head first in the backseat and hitting the armrest on the other side with a loud bang.

"OW! FUCK!" He clutched the top of his head, the impact somehow knocking some semblance into him, "Remind me to never get wasted like this ever again, ow," He sat up, still rubbing the soaring pain on his head, "This is gonna h-hurt tomorrow." 

"And the next day, and the day after that..." Robin said, placing the ice pack on Seán's head, "Now time to go, Jameson's waiting for you at your place." 

"T-Thanks," Seán sniffed, "S-See you tomorrow, Rob."

"You too, pal," Rob replied with a smirk.

"All set?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah." Seán slouched in the backseat, feeling the cold iced water drip down the side of his face.

He felt the vehicle lurch. Before he knew it, they were already driving along a quiet street where most of the townspeople have already turned in for the night - Since it was way past one in the morning. 

"Y-you know, Ethan..."

"What?" The blue haired man replied, glancing at Seán through the rear view mirror. 

"You-you're a good friend," Seán mumbled, "I couldn't be thankful enough to have you as my-my friend." 

"Aww," Ethan smirked, "You too, buddy." 

"A-as a matter of fact, I'm thankful for everything, if it w-weren't for the community and the friends I've m-made over the past few years... I probably wouldn't have m-made it this far."

"Likewise."

"I'm so lucky to have friends like you," He sniffed, wiping the tear that slipped out of his eye.

"I guess this is the part where the drunkard gets emotional," Ethan whispered.

"No it's not that!" The agent said, "My head hurts like shit!"

__________

Having dropped Seán off, Ethan pulled into his driveway with relief washing over him knowing that he was only a few feet away from crashing into his bed. As he turned off his car he caught a glimpse of his laptop bag in the passenger seat, the sight of it immediately reminding him of the email he needed to send Felix before the day ended.

Technically, the day had ended, but who cares?

One last email before calling it a day, The blue-haired agent thought to himself, lazily picking up the leather bag from the seat and emerging outside, feeling the warm breeze of August brush against his face.

Ethan stepped inside his house and locked the door behind him. His fist reached for the light switch to his left, the keys in them jangling as he punched the switch. 

A flicker of light and he was in a hallway facing the main stairwell that led to his house's second floor. To his left was his living room, dimly lit by the hallway light but he could make out the shape of his couch and center table facing a large sixty-five inch LED TV, where he would play his personal favorite console games he did not want to record. He proceeded to walk past the living and turned the light on in there, illuminating a kitchen counter and most of his kitchen that could easily be accessed through the living room. 

He swung open the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk before finally heading up the stairs leaving only the hallway lights that guided the way to his bedroom.

Hands full, Agent Crank pushed his bedroom door open with his behind and headbutted the switch. It was a relatively medium-sized bedroom, mere feet from the door was his study table, fully equipped with a mount where he could hook up his laptop and display it on a large 20-inch monitor as well as connect to a more capable keyboard and mouse. Ethan sat on the swivel chair and connected his laptop to the port. 

He flipped his laptop open and immediately saw the reflection of a man standing in his doorway, the man's silhouette outlined by the light coming from the hallway. 

Ethan scoffed, casually spinning around to face the man, "Hey, what are you doing here?"


	9. Hangover

The immense heat scorched his skin as the fire burned brighter... and there was no one to help him.

~

Seán opened his eyes, gasping loudly for air as if he had just been in a place devoid of air. Taking in his surroundings, he realized he was sprawled across his bed, laying on his belly on the soft mattress with a drool stain near his face. He tried to recall what had transpired last night... until the headache kicked in. 

So, the hangover phase has begun. He thought, sighing, High alcohol tolerance my ass.

The door suddenly burst open, Seán lifted his head slightly to see Jameson standing there looking at him worried.

"Hey," Seán mumbled, weakly waving his hand at him.

Jameson waved back then gesturing him a thumbs up, waiting for his reassurance as he approached the bedside.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he lied, placing a palm on his forehead, "How long was I out?" 

The mute man pulled out a pocket watch from his vest and looked at it.

"Well?" 

JJ lifted a finger telling him to hold on a second, his head turning left and right looking for something. He finally settled for a notebook and pen and wrote on it before letting Seán see. 

The spy's eyes widened, "FUCKING HELL, SIXTEEN HOURS?!" 

Jameson nodded.

"That's the last time I'll ever drink that much," Seán sighed, the thoughts of the dream flooding back while trying to recall how the night ended: the last thing he remembered was him walking on the front lawn to his house. He furiously rubbed his hand on his face sighing in frustration, "Did I... pass out on the lawn?"

Jameson nodded again.

Then the smell of puke hit him, "And did I 'decorate' the lawn?"

Another nod.

"Wait," Seán suddenly sat up, "How did I get here?"

His friend picked up a pillow and draped it over his shoulder then pretending to struggle carrying it, simulating a fireman's carry with the 'legs' in front and the 'head' at the back. Jameson swung the head part and hit it against the doorframe.

"That explains the headache, ow," Seán cringed, "Thanks for bringing me here, man." 

Jameson smiled and nodded his head courteously.

The agent reached for his phone on the nightstand, switching it on and seeing the fifteen missed calls from Robin. This alarmed him, he quickly dialed back.

Robin never calls me this much, He said to himself, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Seán!" Robin's voice answered from the other end, his tone agitated, "Thank God you finally called!" 

"Rob, what's going on?" He asked, worry beginning to creep into him with JJ sharing the same look, "Is there something wrong? Is everything alright?" 

"I'll pick you up right now."

__________

The sound of beeping filled the room, specifically a heart rate monitor. A frail man lay on the bed, relying on the countless life support equipment connected to him. He was badly injured, his left arm was in a cast, bruises all over his body even his face, his eyes were swollen shut by the black eye he had received, and his neon blue hair was matted back with sweat and blood. 

"Ethan, my boy," Seán said, tears welling in his eyes upon seeing one of his closest friends in this state.

"He fell into a coma after being brought here, he was lucky enough paramedics were able to get to him in time," Tyler recounted.

"When did this happen?" 

"Mere minutes after he had dropped you off at your place." Apocalypto said, "Around 00:54 in the morning, there was a break-in at Agent Crank's home, having gained access through a window in the bathroom. Ethan was about to turn in for the night when the intruder struck." 

Seán felt anger and despair building up inside him as he looked at a motionless Ethan laying on the hospital bed, observing the bruises and wounds on his face.

"The attacker had a knife with him, stabbing Ethan three times: one in the leg and two in the gut. He managed to hold him off as he sent a distress signal through his laptop which was subsequently stolen by the perpetrator."

"Mother of God," The Irishman covered his mouth in shock, "Were there anything else that he took?"

"No." Tyler shook his head, "Just the laptop." 

"Which makes it worse," Felix joined in, "It may not contain sensitive data... but it has access to Y.A.S.S.'s main database. There's a high chance that we will be compromised."

"It was very clear that he was after Ethan's laptop," Tyler claimed.

"What made you say that?" Seán asked, quite surprised.

"Because he waited," The tall man replied, "If you analyze the data Forensics have gathered, the break-in happened 00:54 in the morning, Ethan arrived at his home at 01:50. If he was only after the valuables, he would've broken in and left immediately."

"Is there any way we could track it?" 

"Yes, Bob and Wade are already on it, and there's a possibility that they can recover the video of the attack, the moment Ethan made the distress call." Felix said.

"So what next?" Seán asked, "We need to do something and find this son of a bitch."

"We do nothing, Agent SepticSpy," K shook his head.

"What?! Why?"

"We don't know what we're dealing with yet, and we don't want to expose the secret service." Felix said, seeming admitting defeat, "With that much crucial data in the wrong hands... he has us by the neck. We should lay low for a while, see what the Tech Department can gather."

The Irishman sighed, adding a nod, "Alright, you're the boss, boss." 

__________

Robin stepped out of the room and went for the vending machine at the end of the hall, intending to buy a large soda to quench his thirst. He dug into his pocket and fished out a one dollar bill, shoving it in the vending machine's paper money slot.

To his dismay, it rejected the bill.

"Goddamn choosy vending machine," Robin took it out and tried to straighten it, only for it to be rejected again.

"Pixl?" Felix spoke, his voice coming from behind Robin.

Robin jumped, "Jesus, K! You scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry about that," The boss said, "You need some help with that thing? Here, take mine" He offered a different, much cleaner dollar bill.

"Thanks," Robin exchanged the bills and tried it, this time successfully purchasing a can of soda, "It's your turn," He stepped aside to let Felix buy his drink.

"Actually, I'm not here for the soda."

"What?" Robin raised an eyebrow.

"I needed you alone," Felix looked directly into Robin's eyes.

"Okay...? Are you gonna break down in tears again about you and your struggle with finishing that Dark Souls level?"

"No," Felix looked away for a bit then back at Robin, "I think." 

"What is it then?" 

"All I ask is a simple favor," Felix's voice went low, "Would you mind keeping an eye on him?" 

"On Seán? Why?"

"Come to my office first thing tomorrow," K said, "I'll explain everything."


End file.
